


Happier Holidays (A timestamp The Doors of Time)

by felisblanco



Series: The Doors of Time [7]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-31
Updated: 2011-12-31
Packaged: 2017-11-04 10:20:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/392785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felisblanco/pseuds/felisblanco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Christmas timestamp for <a href="http://felisblanco.livejournal.com/856417.html">The Doors of Time</a> set at various timepoints in the verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happier Holidays (A timestamp The Doors of Time)

Jensen can’t remember his first Christmas but he’s been told about it enough times that it feels like he can. How excited he got when the lights were turned on the big tree in the square downtown, making him gurgle with laughter until he let out a high pitched noise that blew every single light bulb within a mile's radius.

It wasn’t the first time he scared his parents but it was, he thinks, the first time they felt more scared for themselves than him.

He still likes the lights but he keeps his reaction in his heart, quiet and safe where it doesn’t hurt anyone.

 

 

He doesn’t really remember the Christmases Inside. It’s probably just as well.

 

 

Their first Christmas living together Chris hangs lights in all the windows while Jensen watches, silent. The weather is grey, cloudy, warm for December but still cold enough that everything feels off. Not even the lights warm up his soul.

“You sure you don’t want to come with me to my folks?” Chris asks for the fifteenth time as he’s packing his bag.

Jensen shakes his head. He’s not good with people. They want to talk and he just... doesn’t.

He stands by the window and watches as Chris throws his bag into the truck. He then stands still for a long time before getting into the car and driving off.

Jensen is still standing in the same spot when he hears Chris say his name. He turns around and blinks slowly at Chris’s pale face in the doorway.

“Did you forget something?” he asks confused, voice rough, body swaying.

Chris stares at him and then he’s across the floor, clutching Jensen to his chest, muttering, “Jesus,” and “So stupid,” and “I knew I should have come back yesterday.”

They spend every Christmas after that together.

 

 

Jared loves Christmas. He absolutely loves it, with a glee that Jensen imagines matches his own, twenty eight years ago. It’s no wonder Jensen can’t help but get caught up in his enthusiasm.

They put lights up everywhere and even buy a tree, Jensen’s very first. It’s small and scrawny and Chris starts sneezing the minute they bring it inside the apartment so they put it in the piano room where it looks even more pathetic. With decorations and lights it’s still the most beautiful tree Jensen has ever seen. The night before Christmas he sneaks out of bed just to go stare at it. Sparkles of light in all the colors of the rainbow twinkle back at him.

Arms suddenly wrap around his waist and a head full of shaggy hair comes to rest upon his shoulder. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He leans back, smiling. Looks at their reflection in a dozen shiny decorations. “It’s beautiful.”

Jared chuckles. “You should see my mom’s tree. It’s enormous. Takes up half the living room. It’s fake though,” he adds with a small shrug. “This one smells better.”

“Chris doesn’t think so,” Jensen points out.

Jared snorts. “Yeah, we should have thought of that. How can anyone be allergic to Christmas trees? That’s just tragic.”

Jensen just smiles.

They stand quiet for a while, just enjoying the quiet.

“You think we’ll get a white Christmas?” Jared suddenly says wistfully.

Jensen looks out the window at the city outside, its pavements and streets dark and wet with rain. “I’ll see what I can do,” he says and tilts up his head to give Jared a small kiss before stepping out of his embrace and up to the piano. “No guarantees.”

He catches Jared’s stunned reflection in the piano and gives him a smile before stroking lovingly over the keys. “Play nice,” he whispers.

 

The next morning they join what feels like half of New York’s population, making snow angels in the white sparkling winter wonderland of Central Park.

fin

Happy New Year!!


End file.
